


Mortal Griefs

by SilchasRuin



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Drama & Romance, Ensemble Cast, F/F, F/M, M/M, Major Illness, Slow Burn, Supervillains, Thriller, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-01-24 10:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18569950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilchasRuin/pseuds/SilchasRuin
Summary: When the doctors tell the superhero Causality that he is dying, he is only twenty-three years old.Following his meteoric rise to fame, Nagito Komaeda - better known as Causality - has led Towa City's hero team for the past three years. When his medical diagnosis confirms that the world as he knows it is about to come crashing down around him, Nagito is forced to balance his deteriorating mental state, his fracturing teammates, a rapidly growing power struggle between several groups of local supervillains, and his unworthy new analyst and handler, Hajime Hinata.And, all the while, despair's influence on the world is rising higher and higher...





	1. Chapter 1

**May 22nd, 2017**

When the doctors tell the superhero Causality that he is dying, he is only twenty-three years old.

"Let me make sure I understand this," he says softly. "First, you tell me I have advanced stage cancer, but that I'm lucky because it's the _good_ subtype."

The man sitting across from him shifts uneasily in his seat. "I...would not have phrased it quite that way, but yes, Hodgkin lymphoma carries a better survival rate than the non-Hodgkin type, even at stage 3."

"Which is why you started me on this chemotherapeutic cocktail." He doesn't bother reciting their names, even though he's read the details on the package inserts over and over again for the past six months, searching obsessively for every piece of information he could possibly find on the Internet during whatever scraps of free time he can snatch between crises.

"The treatment is usually well-tolerated by patients." To his credit, the doctor doesn't even flinch beneath Nagito's steady stare, even though he knows how unnerving some people find the contrast of his gray-green eyes against the scaled contours of his dark mask.

"Right. Usually well-tolerated." He suppresses the hysterical laugh that he can feel rising in the back of his throat. If he were to start laughing now, he feels as if he might just never stop, and then where would _that_ leave his team? "So I'm unlucky again, I suppose? How surprising!"

He notes the doctor's well-camouflaged discomfort with no small amount of distant glee. "Listen, Komaeda-san-"

"Oh, please don't stand on formality! Call me Causality."

"Causality." The man leans forward. "I understand how upset you must be at the thought that your powers may have influenced this outcome. I want you to know that we will do everything we can to manage your symptoms."

"Well, obviously." His eyes follow the doctor's hand as it strays towards a pen, and he bites his tongue. _Disinhibitive behaviors. Psychological dysfunction._ He won't let them use this to take his team from him. "So what's the treatment for this? Is it going to conflict with the updated chemotherapy schedule, or-"

The man shakes his head slowly. "Causality, I'm sorry to tell you this, but there is no cure for frontotemporal dementia."

It's strange how ordinary his doctor looks; how perfectly unremarkable and boring. Nagito's always thought that his death would strike him all at once - an errant bolt of lightning from a cloudless sky, a devastating shot in the back as he's caught in the crossfire of a battle. He's never thought that it would be like this, handed to him piece by inevitable piece by a man without any special powers, sitting behind a worn laminate desk while the fading wallpaper peels behind him from the office walls.

His own voice sounds far away, as if it's struggling to reach them through dark waters. "What do you mean, 'no cure'?"

"There are options to manage your symptoms. Antidepressants, possibly even antipsychotics if your behavioral evaluation reveals that you would benefit from them. But I am very sorry to say that there is nothing we can do for the damage that has already occurred to your brain."

Nothing. Nothing at all. When Nagito doesn't respond, the doctor continues in a gentler tone. "Causality, I hate to ask you this, since your teammates haven't reported any behavioral problems. But is it a possibility that your condition may have influenced the events last month-"

He wants nothing more than for a meteorite to fall from the sky and smash its way through the man's skull, shards of bone and flesh peeling cleanly away like unfolding flowers. But he can't waste the good luck he's owed on something as insignificant as that. So he keeps his features and voice perfectly smooth as he responds, even though the doctor can't see the former. "The full reports on the incident, with testimonials from all of the Ultimates, have been logged with headquarters. No impropriety was found in the investigation."

"That's not what I was asking."

Nagito doesn't blink. "No. My judgment was not impaired during the events in question."

The doctor sighs, tapping his pencil against the desk. "You understand that, in order to prove your fitness to continue in your capacity as team leader of the Ultimates, you will need to undergo a full psychological evaluation, subject to..."

Nagito tunes out the legalese as he works on ensuring that the calm, unworried smile on his face is picture-perfect; exactly the same as the one he's flashed in hundreds of interviews before. The MRI results will make the examiners suspicious, but he can fake a simple psychological exam.

After all, that's exactly what he'd done when he passed his initial exam with flying colors when he first joined the team three years ago.

**August 30th, 2017**

"Today, we have here with us Causality, leader of Towa City's very own superhero team, the Ultimates! Please join me in welcoming our guest!"

The audience's cheers drown out her last words as Nagito strides out onto stage, the tails of his long coat flaring out behind him for maximal dramatic effect. He flashes a friendly grin at the audience from beneath his trademark domino mask, ensuring that the cameras get a good shot of his endearing, slightly embarrassed wave and the lines of his well-tailored costume. He keeps the smile on as he shakes Nina Parvez's hand; as he settles casually into his chair, dark green coat pooling around his white-and-red costume. His hips feel disconcertingly bare without his usual utility belt, but it wouldn't have been photogenic to wear it.

"Thank you for inviting me, Ms. Parvez," he says, and she throws back her head and laughs. It's just as meticulously practiced as his own, but it looks beautiful regardless.

"Oh, please call me Nina!"

"Nina." He gives her his best charming smile.

"Causality," she purrs. "I don't suppose you'll give me your name in return?" He shrugs sheepishly, and the audience laughs along with her. "Oh well! Can't blame a girl for trying."

Suddenly businesslike, she switches her angle of attack in mere milliseconds. "So, Causality, I think what we're all _dying_ to know, other than your true identity, is the story behind your delightfully daring capture of Diamondback last week! As I understand it, he had an entire syndicate backing him?"

"Yes, the Crazy Diamonds have been a thorn in the side of this wonderful city for a while," he states modestly.

"You can say that again! And you broke them apart almost single-handedly! The newspapers are claiming that you caught Diamondback red-handed during yet another of his high-profile heists! Is that true?" 

"Every word, Nina. I guess you could say I was very _lucky_." They all laugh together once more.

"But that's not your only stunning success over the past couple of months! I understand that your team subdued the international supervillain Artisan after a fierce battle in September..."

***

After the interview, Nekomaru Nidai is waiting for him outside the studio. "Oh, Augment!" he says, widening his eyes. "You didn't have to come all the way! Did you bring the van?"

"This was nothing! Just a light JOOOOOG!" The enormous chains crossing the man's chest strain as he folds his arms. Despite being the only member of the Ultimates who doesn't wear a mask as part of their costume, Nekomaru's never been good at keeping his emotions off his face. Nagito can tell immediately what sort of conversation _this_ is going to be. "I was hoping that we could talk on the drive back?"

"Sure, no problem," he says cheerily, even though he feels exactly the opposite. "I'll drive."

Once they are safely away from prying ears, Nekomaru gets straight to the point, dropping his boisterous personality. "Nagito, I'm worried about you."

"There's no need to worry. The radiation treatments were apparently effective, and I'm told the chemotherapy drugs seem to be keeping the cancer at bay." He reflexively pats his brown wig.

"You know that's not what this is about." Well, obviously not, but Nagito isn't just going to give him the answer. Nekomaru shakes his head disapprovingly. "You've been taking more and more risks lately, and I can't enable you any longer."

_That_ certainly isn't good. "You're the tactician. The results speak for themselves, I think."

"You've been exceptionally lucky so far." Nekomaru's brows draw downward. "What happens when your bad luck cycle strikes again - especially if it's enhanced by my power?"

He may have told Nekomaru about the cancer - with his ability, it was inevitable that he'd find out anyway - but he will never, ever tell anyone that the bad luck Nekomaru is worrying about has already happened. Why else would he have taken the risks that he did? "Then we'll deal with that as it comes."

"Deal with it as it comes?" Nekomaru repeats incredulously. "Nagito, have you forgotten that your luck can endanger those around you as well? My power amplifies both the positive _and_ negative aspects of others' powers. If you're under its effects when you get a bad luck event, the results could be catastrophic for both the Ultimates and civilians! This is exactly why my power should only be used on an entire group rather than on individuals!"

"I wouldn't keep asking you to use it if I felt it wasn't safe," he lies, eyes on the road. "You know I have some minor control over the positive effects of my power. Your augmentation allows me to get some sense of when the bad luck will strike, as well."

"Really?" Nekomaru pounds his giant fist down on his thigh. "Don't be a fool, Nagito! It doesn't matter whether that's true or not. It's not a coincidence that your cancer was found only a month after we tried this for the first time. I should have stopped then, but it's better late than never."

"Nekomaru, think this through-"

"I HAVE!" he roars, fists clenching. "I won't let this team lose any more of its members!"

His knuckles whiten around the steering wheel. "Don't."

"Nagito, even if it's not me, you need to talk to someone-"

" _Don't._ "

They drive for a short while in silence. Eventually, Nekomaru breaks it, still uncharacteristically quiet. "Nagito, I meant what I said. I can't do this any more."

"Really," he hums. "Even if you know you'll be the one responsible if I go out on my own anyways?"

"You'll just have to bring the team with you," Nekomaru says firmly, and Nagito knows that his luck's run out. "You're as much of a tactician as I am. You won't risk yourself like that."

"Won't I?"

Nekomaru's voice is tight, anguished. "Why are you like this? What _happened_ to you, Nagito?"

"Nothing," he says, pasting his usual smile on his face as they pull into their base's driveway. _Everything._ "Nothing at all."

**September 17th, 2017**

"Hi, Causality! It's a pleasure to meet you." The short, spiky-haired man sticks out his hand, smiling widely. "I'm your new analyst, Hajime Hinata. I hope we can get along!"

"I don't need a new analyst," he snaps, brushing past him. He can picture the man gaping at him from behind; hears his footsteps as he hurries to catch up with him.

"Hey, wait a minute-!"

"The Ultimates aren't currently accepting new members. If you have a decent enough power, I suggest putting in a transfer request to Tokyo. They have a high turnover rate."

"I'm not here to join the Ultimates. I'm here because I've been assigned to _you._ "

"Is the drawback of your power not being able to take a hint, Hajime?"

"I don't have a power!" Nagito spins around, staring at him incredulously. "What I do have is five years of experience and exemplary results as a field analyst. I was on scene in the Kyoto Incident two years ago; I've got recommendations from Holmes & Hope-"

"Unbelievable," Nagito hisses, then changes his direction, lengthening his stride. This is completely unacceptable. He will have to speak to Headquarters.

"You're a lot nicer on TV, you know!" Hajime calls after him. Nagito ignores him. He's inconsequential.

***

"I don't need a new analyst," he repeats.

The voice on the end of the other line sighs, irritated. "Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I-" He lets out a long breath. "There must be some mistake. You've sent me a civilian analyst with no powers."

"There is no mistake. Hajime Hinata has worked for me personally for the past year," Holmes says. She's impatient on even the best of days, and she's certainly not bothering to hide her obvious exasperation now. "He has my highest recommendation. You'll just have to deal with it."

Nagito's mouth draws into a thin line. "Augment is more than qualified to provide field advice-"

"Augment's power takes enough of a physical toll on him that a leader with his team's best interests at heart would see that it is _unwise_ to spread him so thin." Her voice sharpens. "You do have your team's _best interests_ at heart, yes?"

"You know I do, Kyoko," he says as soothingly as he can manage. "It's just that-"

"Nagito, we have given you more than enough time to grieve. Now it's time to look after the rest of your team. You need to move on from Chiaki's-"

"Shut up."

"What did you just say to me?" Holmes' voice could freeze molten metal. "If you are too emotionally compromised to heed a direct order, then-"

"I'm sorry," he breathes. "I'm sorry, I don't know why-" He can't _slip_. He has to compose himself. "I'm sorry, Kyoko. We're all still feeling-" _Broken._ "-her loss. The wounds are still raw."

"I understand that, but you will have to close those wounds at some point. For the good of your team, if your career is not sufficient motivation."

"I'm sorry, Holmes. I understand."

Her voice is still cold. "Make sure it doesn't happen again." He hears a click as the phone disconnects.

Nagito stands there listening to the dialtone for a long, long time.

**January 30th, 2017**

"Oh, Nagito, it's you!" Chiaki Nanami stifles her yawn behind her hand. She's dressed in pyjamas with stylized pink rabbit heads printed on them, complete with fluffy pink slippers. "I wasn't expecting you...to be honest, I'd kind of dozed off..."

"Aren't you going to invite me in, Shepard?" Chiaki's eyes widen, and she grabs his arm to pull him in.

"What are you thinking, dropping a flag like that already? If you're going to spill all our secrets in the hallway, you'd better do it inside!"

"I see! I don't mind that, either!"

Chiaki closes and locks the door behind him. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, Nagito...but what are you doing here?"

He pulls out the bottle of wine he'd been holding behind his back. "Happy New Year?"

She laughs, slightly incredulously, as he shrugs off his coat and drapes it over the back of a nearby chair. "This apartment is not as large as it could be. You should really reconsider living on base."

"Yeah, well, base doesn't have this ridiculously awesome gaming setup," she says, arm sweeping to encompass the mass of wires and game consoles in the living room.

"That is true," he says, nodding agreeably. "It is unfortunate that base doesn't have you, either."

"Um...well..." Chiaki runs a hand through her purple-tinged hair. "Nagito, seriously...why are you here?"

He tilts his head to one side. "I thought I'd finally take you up on that offer to play Mario Kart. My luck, your skills, Rainbow Road?"

"That's...that's fine, but it's really late and...is this a friendship thing, then?"

"I don't know, Chiaki," he says, stepping forward. " _Is_ this a friendship thing?"

Chiaki rubs the sleep from her eyes, blinking as if testing whether or not she's dreaming. "This is...very sudden, Nagito. I mean, you made it clear you weren't interested-"

"I don't know about that. Shall we see what this bottle of wine says?"

"'What this bottle of wine says'- Nagito, are you drunk?"

He feels her shiver as his fingers trace the sides of her hip, and when she presses closer to him he pulls her all the way and drinks her in; kisses his way down the side of her neck and hears her gasp fill with surprise and need.

That first time, they don't make it to the bedroom.

"I love you," he says after, eyes closed, face buried in her lavender-scented hair.

"Um...wow," Chiaki laughs nervously. "That's...I...that was _wonderful_ , Causality, don't get me wrong, but-"

"I just," he whispers, "I just need you to love me back a little, Chiaki. It's okay if you don't, of course you couldn't love someone like me, I just wanted-"

"Hey," Chiaki says, moving up so she can place her hand over his lips. "Hey. You know, we skipped a _lot_ of steps in a typical romance VN, but...I think I can manage that."

"You can?" He rests his face against hers again, hugging her tightly. "Thank you, Chiaki. Thank you."

Chiaki frowns, searching his expression. "Hey, Nagito. You really _are_ okay, right?"

"Of course I am, Chiaki. _Now_ , I finally feel like I'm all right."

**May 23rd, 2017**

"Have you exhibited abnormally sexually disinhibitive behaviours in the past six months?"

_Chiaki._

Nagito meets the psychiatrist's eyes. "No."

"Have you found yourself experiencing confusion regarding dates and times?"

_Valentine's Day, spent together a week later because of the Crazy Diamonds, he'd told her, but really he'd thought it was that day after all._

"No."

"Have you exhibited increased impulsivity, aggressiveness, or risk taking behavior?"

_Chiaki, in the briefing room less than two minutes after the rest had gone, where anyone could have heard. Chiaki, in a makeshift tent the night before it had happened. Chiaki-_

"No."

The woman adjusts her glasses, circles another word. "In your opinion, do you still believe yourself to be qualified to _safely_ and effectively manage Towa City's superhero team, the Ultimates."

Nagito Komaeda doesn't hesitate, not even for a moment.

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Danganronpa writers did their research for Nagito's disease in-game. The risk of Hodgkin lymphoma has a peak in early adulthood, and there is a documented case of a known chemotherapeutic treatment cocktail resulting in rapid onset of frontotemporal dementia in at least one patient. So Nagito's condition really _could_ occur; you would just have to be extraordinarily unlucky.
> 
> Notes on powered individuals introduced in this chapter:
> 
>  **Causality (Nagito Komaeda):** A probability manipulator who can influence events around him, creating "good luck" at will. Unfortunately, every instance of good luck is accompanied by commensurate bad luck. It is largely impossible for Nagito to predict what form this bad luck will take. However, he is able to slightly mitigate it by inflicting "bad luck" on himself - deliberately leaving a mess on his bedroom floor so that he might accidentally trip, for example. "Bad luck" that is inflicted directly, however, such as breaking a mirror or purposely hitting himself, appears to have no effect on his power.
> 
>  **Augment (Nekomaru Nidai):** A superhero who enhances the abilities of others around him - both their positive effects and their drawbacks. The effect is most strongly pronounced when it is targeted towards one individual. By targeting multiple individuals, the enhancement becomes much weaker; however, as the effect of the drawbacks also lessens, this is the safest way for Augment to use his power, and is the manner in which the Ultimates most often deploy him. The effort of augmenting others puts severe strain on Nekomaru's heart, and care must be taken to keep him far away from any possible conflict during this time.


	2. Chapter 2

**June 9th, 2011**

The first time Nagito Komaeda meets Kyoko Kirigiri, he is battered and bruised, disconsolately picking scraps of foul-smelling garbage out of his hair.

"You're very lucky."

He looks up, startled, the sudden movement sending a fresh stream of trash into a cascade down his back. A lone lottery ticket stub, stained liberally with some sort of dark fluid he would prefer not to think too closely about, flutters neatly into his hand. Reflexively, he tightens his fingers around it as he warily eyes the pale girl standing in front of him.

To her credit, she doesn't so much as wrinkle her nose, even though he's well aware that he smells worse than an abandoned dumpster on a hot summer day. Which is, incidentally, exactly what his kidnapper had thrown him into when he'd made an aborted attempt to escape. 

Her violet eyes narrow as she waves a gloved hand in front of his face. "Do you speak?"

"Y-yes, I do. Sorry - ma'am," he adds, noting her commanding stance and the wide, respectful berth the policemen flooding the room are giving her. 

The girl snorts, a surprisingly indelicate sound. "Do you know who I am?"

She looks like nothing more than a particularly stern schoolgirl in her purple-jacketed uniform, although he's not sure if any standard school dress code would permit the high-heeled purple boots sheathing her calves. "No, I'm afraid I don't," he admits.

She shrugs one shoulder slightly, her face impassive. "You will."

Nagito frowns as she turns to go. His gaze darts briefly towards the body bag on the floor of the dingy, dark room, and the hushed whispers of the two detectives standing over his kidnapper's body as they glance furtively at the girl. "You're the one who found me," he says out loud.

She pauses, then turns around, giving him a small nod. "Very good." Is it his imagination, or is there a tiny amount of approval in her voice?

"Did-did my parents send you? Or-"

She cuts him off with a quick shake of her head. "He's already killed five different victims. The police department requested my services as a consultant. As I said, you're very lucky that we happened to find him before he added you to his tally." He opens his mouth to ask her how she managed to track the killer down, but she anticipates his question. "The patterns were obvious. _If_ you knew how to look."

"I'm grateful you did," he says, frowning thoughtfully. Something about the way she speaks sounds frustratingly familiar - the white hair, the purple theme -

His eyes widen as it strikes him. "You're that hero who was on Channel 5 a month ago!"

"Hero in training," she corrects him, mouth twisting wryly. "I am still underage."

"Of course," he breathes. What is he supposed to say to someone like her? She seems to transform in front of his eyes, seeming taller. More remote. Unreachable. "I-I know there isn't much someone like me can do, but if there's ever something you need-"

He is aware of how stupid he sounds, but she nods gravely at his words, as if she is taking them seriously. "The killer made a mistake when he kidnapped you," she says abruptly, frowning. "It was very uncharacteristically sloppy of him. Without it, even I would not have been able to rescue you in time." He listens intently, unblinking. She sighs. "My point is...do not waste the life you have been given."

Nagito feels something unfamiliar unfolding inside him, an excitement in the pit of his stomach that he can't quite quell. "I won't. Thank you."

She eyes him for a few seconds longer, eyes narrowing, then checks her watch, eyes narrowing. "I'm late for class," she mutters.

"Hang on," he blurts out. "I don't even know your name. I mean, I know you don't have an official hero name yet, but-"

She considers him for a long moment, then says simply: "Holmes."

"Holmes," he whispers to himself as she turns on her heel and heads for the door, police and emergency personnel stepping aside to clear a path for her as she goes. He unclenches his fist from where it curls at his side, palm stinging from where his nails dug in their excitement. "I won't waste the luck I've been given." He stares at the forlorn lottery ticket crumpled in his hand, absently smoothing it out as the tightness in his belly uncoils.

And then, with a jolt of sudden realization, he sees the pattern.

**September 18th, 2017**

"I take it you've already reviewed the team's case files."

"Yes," Hajime says, but he doesn't elaborate. Evidently, whatever meager analytical ability he possesses is at least enough to pick up on Nagito's obvious social cues.

"Good." Nagito keeps his voice just cold enough to skirt the edges of formal professionalism; emotionless enough to avoid any grounds for a complaint about his conduct. "I expect you to clarify any necessary points with Augment _after_ the meeting. Do not interrupt the briefing."

"And if I have any points to add?" Hajime asks sardonically. "Such as mission-critical intelligence, also known as...oh, I don't know...'my job'?"

Nagito nods to himself, satisfied. Evidently, Hajime's professional pride is enough of a weak point that he may not even have to act directly to get rid of him. One meeting should be enough to make Hajime's uselessness painfully clear. There is very little chance that the unpowered man will stick around after that - and an even smaller chance that his departure will reflect negatively on Nagito. Problem solved.

"Use your common sense," he says, and hopes that it will end the matter for now. 

A couple of seconds pass.

"So, how do you know Holmes?"

Nagito rapidly revises his estimate of Hajime's social skills. Still, he can't risk being overtly rude to Hajime in any form. The second Holmes decides to look into his behavior, he's done for. So, if he has to play nice with her pet civilian for a few days until he washes out, it's a relatively small concession.

"Professionally," he replies without turning to look at Hajime. Then, belatedly realizing that this may be interpreted as rudeness: "We worked together on several occasions. She truly is brilliant." He doesn't attempt to conceal the admiration that seeps into his voice.

"Is that all?" The analyst's tone is flat. "That's interesting. She speaks very highly of you."

Ah. Now he realizes the problem. Hajime either does not know his place, or simply refuses to acknowledge it. "Just as I spoke highly of her. I am not in the habit of discussing my personal entanglements-" _With you._ "-at work."

"Huh." Hajime appears to reflect on this for a few moments of blessed silence. "I never took you for a bigot."

"I beg your pardon?" he snaps, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the hallway as he rounds on the unpowered man.

Hajime meets his eyes, gaze steady. "I said, I never took you for a bigot before."

"Yes, I got that part!" He can feel his cheeks flushing with revulsion, warm surges of anger prickling the tips of his ears. How _dare_ he? What can someone like him possibly know - how dare he _judge_ -

He focuses inward with a vicious effort, imagines walling his emotions away within the deteriorated ruin of his mind. When he speaks again, his voice is much more modulated; easily mistakable for calm. "I am most certainly _not_ a bigot. My tenure as leader of the Ultimates has resulted in a significant decrease in unpowered civilian fatalities. I have many unpowered acquaintances-"

Hajime looks torn, his features warring between incredulity and profound skepticism. He blows past them both, settling eventually on righteous indignation. "Yeah? Name one."

His response is instant. "Nina Parvez."

The other man scoffs. "Okay, that one was on me. Name one that _isn't_ a professional acquaintance."

Weariness settles bone-deep into his skin, fogs the memories that he desperately tries each day to hold onto. For a moment, his power tightens its coils around his heart; threads of probability weave themselves into iron bands before his eyes before he tamps them down again, unwilling to waste any luck on a meaningless civilian. This only proves how right he is, after all. The unpowered can never truly understand.

Instead of answering, he does what he's second-best at and deflects. "I don't hate you because you're unpowered," he lies. "I hate you because you aren't _her._ "

Stricken, Hajime rocks back on his heels. A few seconds pass before Nagito hears his footsteps again. "I'm sorry-" he begins.

He suppresses a bitter smile, even though the other man can't see his face. "You didn't even know her."

"Still," the analyst says quietly. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Nagito doesn't turn around this time. "Don't be."

The rest of their walk to the briefing room is, at last, mercifully silent.

***

Nekomaru is pacing the room as they enter, long legs covering the length of the room in only a handful of steps before he turns again. Recognition lights his eyes as he looks up. "OH! HAJIME!" he bellows, waving frantically.

Kazuichi Soda shoots bolt-upright from where he'd been snoring against the briefing room table, eyes wild as he looks frantically around the room. "Huh? Wh-wha? I'm awake! I wasn't sleepin'!"

"Um. Hi, Augment." Hajime leans out from behind Nagito, giving the big man a sheepish half-wave.

Nagito raises his eyebrows. "Do the two of you know each other?"

Hajime shrugs. "He showed me around the place yesterday. Since you were, uh, a little busy at the time..." Nagito is pleased to note that the irritating buoyancy in his voice has been replaced by a far more hesitant tone.

Nekomaru, of course, is far less circumspect. "It's my pleasure to show appropriate hospitality to our NEW COLLEAAAAAAGUE!" He manages to shoot Nagito a pointed look while startling a droopy-eyed Soda into wakefulness a second time.

"Hey, a new colleague? Well, _we_ haven't met!" Kazuichi pulls his beanie off, exposing a shock of messy neon-pink hair. "I'm Oneshot, master mechanic, engineer, and resident genius!" This pronouncement is met with a snort from the corner of the room. Kazuichi sends a quick glare in Gundham's direction before continuing. "Pleased t'meet ya!"

"The pleasure is all mine!" Hajime says brightly, the light returning to his eyes as if it had never left. "I've read about that mobile railgun platform you built - it's brilliant! How did you manage to condense it so much?"

"You've read about Betsy?" Kazuichi gasps. To his disgust, Nagito can almost envision small hearts dancing in the man's eyes. "I mean, she's more of a deterrent than anythin', and she still takes up a warehouse to herself, but I'd be happy to show her to ya-"

"Perhaps later," Nagito says, probably just a _little_ too abruptly, and Soda sits back, duly chastened. Well. He might as well continue with the introductions. "You've met Augment and Oneshot. Over there, Witch Queen and Overlord -" Sonia Nevermind and Gundham Tanaka wave more-or-less enthusiastically from their corner, although Gundham slightly ruins the effect with a hastily stifled maniacal laugh. "Meet Hajime Hinata. Our new analyst."

He doesn't know what he's expecting - perhaps a little more withdrawal, more than a little discomfort - but, after a brief awkward pause, their smiles return.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hajime," Sonia says regally.

"Bow before the Supreme Overlord of Ice, peasant-hrrk!" Gundham rubs his ankle, sending an innocently beaming Sonia a wounded look. Still, he continues in a less dramatic fashion. "...It's nice to meet you, Hajime."

"Same here," Hajime says with a smile. "The two of you work as a pair, right?"

"Oh, you've read our file!" Sonia claps her hands together with glee. "That's right! My rituals take time to set up, but if I focus on enhancing my dear Overlord's animals, we can achieve excellent crowd control without putting his beloved minions at risk!"

"And if my infernal servants focus on funneling opponents into Witch Queen's demesne, she can sap their will as they cower at her dazzling might!" Gundham adds proudly.

"Battlefield control," Nekomaru translates for the pair.

"Impressive," Hajime says with a grin. "You have a sixth member too, right?"

"Yes," Nagito says, frowning. "Although she seems to be late - again-"

"Ibuki isn't late!" Nagito winces; notices Hajime grimacing beside him as he makes an abortive attempt to cover his ears. Ibuki claps her hands over her mouth. "Ibuki is sorry!" she squeaks in a much quieter voice. "Ibuki can't help herself, sometimes. I'm new to this whole thing." She sticks her hand out, still talking rapidly. "Anyways, are we doing greetings? I'm Siren! Although it sounds like you already know that! Do you know why I'm called Siren?"

"It's-" Hajime begins.

"It's because of Ibuki's melodious voice!" she exclaims, throwing her hands up in glee.

"No, it isn't," Kazuichi calls out.

Ibuki makes a face at him. "And it's also because Ibuki yells really loud. Have they issued you your special comms set yet?"

"He won't be needing one," Nagito says firmly. "This is Hajime Hinata. Our new analyst."

Surprisingly, Ibuki's smile flickers out for a moment, her eyes dimming. But, just as Hajime is beginning to look hesitant, she springs forward, grabbing his outstretched hand in both of hers and shaking it up and down enthusiastically. "How exciting! Welcome, Hajime!"

Nagito walks over to the end of the table, pulling out his chair. "Since we're all here, shall we begin?" It isn't actually a question.

Ibuki flops into a chair near Kazuichi, while Hajime walks over to sit beside Nekomaru, who gives him a friendly shoulder clap that sends him staggering briefly. "So, first things first," Kazuichi begins. "I've noticed a bit of a micro-tilt on Big Brother. We'll have ta requisition some specific components from HQ-" He pulls out a large, untidy bundle of sheets to a chorus of groans from the other Ultimates. "Aw, come on, guys," he wheedles, rolling his eyes. "I need help with all the paperwork, an' if the tilt gets any worse, I'll have ta pull him off the street for repair." Most of the others have the grace to look slightly abashed, but Gundham just avoids Kazuichi's eyes even more intently.

Nagito sighs internally, reaching out for the papers. It'll take away more time that he doesn't have, but they can't risk losing surveillance now, when retaliation from the Crazy Diamonds for the capture of their leader is almost inevitable.

"I can take care of that." Nagito stares incredulously at Hajime, smiling benevolently as he pulls the papers from Kazuichi's hand.

"Thanks, Hajime," the mechanic says gratefully. "When didja want ta meet to go over them?"

"Hmm?" Hajime says absently, rifling through the papers. "Oh, there's no need. I'll take care of it."

"Y-you will?" Kazuichi's jaw drops.

"Yeah, no problem. It's a pretty straightforward requisition." Hajime shrugs. "I did a lot of administrative work at HQ, too."

"Soul friend," Kazuichi whispers reverently. "I _love_ you."

 _Interesting,_ Nagito thinks. An unpowered is still utterly unsuitable for analytical work, of course. But perhaps once Hajime fails, he may be useful to keep around as a secretary. He'll have to consider it further.

For now, he steps in before the briefing can derail any further. "If there are no other administrative concerns, we should discuss our plan for dealing with the Crazy Diamonds."

Nekomaru nods gravely. "I agree. I believe that-"

A shrill ringtone cuts off his words. The Ultimates' gazes swivel to a white-faced Hajime, fumbling with his phone.

"Is this the level of professional competence we can expect from you?" Nagito says frostily.

"It's a priority call from Holmes," Hajime hisses as he finally unlocks the phone, bringing it to his ear. "I have to take this, it concerns your team - hello?"

He concentrates on keeping the muscles of his face locked into a neutral expression. Why are Holmes' orders going through an unpowered, of all people? Why hasn't Holmes called _him?_ Does she no longer trust him?

A chilling thought freezes his blood. What if all of his efforts are too late? What if his behavior has already prompted Holmes to begin investigating him?

He jolts back to reality, frowning as he listens to Hajime's end of the conversation. "Well, tell him _not_ to, then! - With all due respect, Holmes - yes - yes, I know that would be disastrous, but-" Intriguing. He hadn't thought that the analyst's face could go any paler. "-It's just that considering the current situation, I think - yes. Yes. Okay, well, just let it be known that, for the record, I believe that this will end poorly - okay. I'll tell them. Bye, Holmes." He pulls the phone away from his ear as though it were a venomous serpent, lips compressed into a thin line.

His own voice sounds bone-dry as it floats past his lips. "Are you going to fill the rest of us in on your conversation?"

"I'm sorry," Hajime says grimly. "I tried to tell Holmes, but she insisted on sending him. It wasn't my call."

Nagito's eyes narrow. "I _told_ her that we don't need reinforcements."

"Yes, you've made that really clear, thanks," Hajime says, evidently unable to stop himself. Clearing his throat, he hurries on. "Instead of transferring Diamondback to headquarters - congratulations on his capture, by the way - Holmes is sending someone to assist with his containment in person."

Nagito ignores the obvious attempt at soothing his feelings. "Well?" he demands. "Who is it?"

The analyst's voice sounds apologetic. "It's Monitor."

Dead silence envelops the room. "Oh, shit," Kazuichi says quietly. Nagito can't really disagree with his assessment.

They are in deep, deep shit.

**May 8, 2014**

The second time Nagito Komaeda meets Kyoko Kirigiri, Towa City's streets are ringing with frenzied cries for blood; a critical mass of protesters swarms the steps of the courthouse, earnest placards long since discarded. He ducks out of the way as a stray rock, lobbed over the riot shields, narrowly avoids impact with his cheek; there's no way the protesters could have seen the near-miss, but their howling suddenly surges to a vicious crest that sends shards of ice stabbing into his spine before ebbing again.

"The Diamonds," a voice says from behind him, sharp-edged with frustration. He turns to meet a pair of narrowed violet eyes, glaring at the backs of the policemen as if she can see right through them to the baying crowd beyond. "Oh. It's you. The trash boy."

He winces despite himself. "My name is Causality, these days."

"Hnnh," she grunts, turning back to the crowd. "That's a much better name."

"I thought so, too." 

A fresh, scattered crescendo rises from the mob, and she grimaces. "Can your power show us any way to calm them? Disperse the crowd?"

He considers it out of diligence, but both he and Holmes know that the situation has devolved far beyond peace, far out of the provenance of luck. "No. Can Hope-"

She's already shaking her head. "With tension this high, his emotion power has a high chance of backfiring. They're too far gone for subtle intervention. I have him on Monitor, instead."

"He can keep him down?"

"He'll have to." Her voice is grim.

He lets it go. If Hope fails, they'll know soon enough. "Who else do we have here?"

Her lips twist wryly at his use of 'we', but this is hardly the time to quibble about pronouns. "Oneshot. Siren."

He waits a few moments, but no other names seem to be forthcoming. "That's it?"

She scowls. "Monitor didn't consult with us before making his decision. If I had known he was going to turn - we could have fortified the courthouse with Witch Queen, protected him with Hydra-" She snorts again, softer this time. "Well. Too late for regrets."

"Yes," Nagito agrees. He hesitates for a moment. When he'd first approached the courthouse - when the citizenry had still been more-or-less peacefully protesting, pain tilting the scales away from anger - they'd recognized his makeshift costume, parted uneasily before him, until one middle-aged woman had stepped into his path, a wavering sign hoisted into the air by her trembling fingers. There hadn't been any trace of rage in her eyes. Just confusion, and weariness, as though she hadn't understood how they could even have considered this. _My son,_ she'd said, as if those two words explained everything. _My son._

He wonders if her son was a gang member, or a criminal, or just collateral damage from Monitor's trail of bodies. He wonders if she, too, will become collateral damage herself, lost in the formless mass of people screaming their indignation.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?" he asks.

"It doesn't matter." Holmes' voice is tight. "He's asked to turn. He's sincere. He has information we need. We _have_ to take him, and he knows it." The line of her mouth compresses even further. "Bastard."

He hopes against hope that the woman he'd seen had somehow managed to leave before the mood turned ugly. Even though he knows that she's probably still here. "What's the plan? Are we taking him out the back?"

"No. Oneshot's got eyes on the Diamonds. They're out in force, covering the nearby roads. We wouldn't get far before we'd have to risk a confrontation. We have evac coming in by air."

It's a good plan. The Diamonds may rule the streets of Towa City, but as far as anyone knows, they don't have any air capabilities. He eyes the more-or-less flat roof of the courthouse dubiously. "And it's going to land there?"

She offers him a one-sided shrug. "Oneshot is controlling it remotely. I'm sure he'll manage." She turns her head over her shoulder, raises her voice slightly. "Oneshot. Do we have an ETA?"

The young man's face as he peeks around the courthouse doors is pale. His dark blue jumpsuit is simple, utilitarian; unfortunately, the costume's relative subtlety is completely ruined by the spikes of pink hair painting a target on his head. He darts a worried glance at the slim tablet in his hands, fiddling briefly with the controls. "Ten minutes, Holmes!"

"That's too long," she snaps. "The Diamonds are probably already wondering why we haven't moved him out yet."

"It's already flyin' low at as much speed as it can safely go! It's only a prototype, ya know..."

Something prickles at the edge of Nagito's senses. He frowns, head turning-

The line of policemen explodes inward, a shield shattering with crushing impact. The policemen buckle, some turning slightly in aborted attempts to aid their comrade, pushing himself up from the ground with a shocked look on his face. Nagito stares at the gap incredulously; sees the dark-skinned girl with wild hair and short red skirt dusting crumbs from her hands before she steps back, face solemn as the grave, fading back into the onrushing crowd.

The policemen try to move forward, to bridge the space between them, but it's too late. The first bold civilians have already breached the gap. Cursing, the man on the ground barely manages to drag himself out of the way before he is trampled by their footsteps, still trying futilely to stand. _Something's wrong with his leg. Something's wrong with his-_

"Inside," Holmes shouts. He feels her hand on his arm, dragging him back with surprising strength. He reaches out with his power, sensing the lines of probability, _twists_ , and the leader of the mob stumbles, going down hard, tripping those behind him and breaking their momentum. It's enough to buy them a few precious seconds of time; enough for Holmes to slam the doors as he rushes to help Oneshot topple an armoire as a temporary barricade before they rush after Holmes, moving with purpose. _Stupid,_ he berates himself. He should have let that rock hit him - the bad luck would have bought him a small intervention's worth of grace; he wouldn't have had to wonder what price he'll pay now for using his power...

Too late for regrets now.

Holmes throws open a door, whips her arm back as the three occupants look up, startled. "Move," she barks. "Get him up to the roof."

Hope - shorter than he expected, Nagito distantly notes, brown hair only a few shades lighter than his own - immediately nods, hauling a handcuffed Monitor to his feet. Nagito groans inwardly when he sees him. Hope's done well enough in the short time he's had with the prisoner - his distinctive orange jumpsuit from the trial has been replaced with a far less conspicuous, if noticeably baggy, t-shirt and slacks combo - but nothing can be done for his hair. It's still dyed in the riotous colors of the Crazy Diamonds gang, striped with white, black, and red; the crimson of his eyes, too, is vivid enough to distinguish him from a distance as their most infamous enforcer.

Holmes is still issuing orders. "Oneshot, send that decoy out."

"It's too early," Hope protests, although he's still obediently hustling his prisoner along.

"They've broken through," Holmes says. "The Diamonds are on the move - it was a power that broke the line - Siren, can you handle the crowd?"

"Ibuki can handle it!" Siren squeaks, snapping into an exaggerated salute. She looks even younger than him, the outrageous style of her costume amplified by her elaborate mask, its conical horns weaving into her hair.

"They're mostly civilians, but there's a powered girl - dark, short hair, red skirt. Don't let her get to you. She's strong," Nagito says, remembering the haunted look in her eyes as she'd faded away.

"Nonlethal only, got it!" Siren - Ibuki - calls as she races down the hallway in the opposite direction from them. He considers shouting a further warning, wishing her luck, but they're at the stairwell door already, and Holmes' voice is calm but insistent as she motions them through. _Go, go, go._

"Oneshot, ETA on evac?"

"Three minutes," the mechanic gasps, chest heaving as he takes the stairs two at a time, still focused on his tablet. "I sent it as high as I could - pushed the speed -"

Monitor speaks for the first time. "I can take care of anyone who comes our way."

"No," Holmes and Hope speak at the same time. Nagito catches a brief sensation of the emotions Hope is pushing out towards Monitor - _calm_ \- and a brief lassitude slows him down before he shakes it off and continues running. Monitor blinks slowly, eyes glazing over, but he doesn't speak further.

They break onto the roof. Below, the front of the courthouse is a seething mess, people swarming like ants. Even though they evidently haven't broken through, Siren's infrasonics seem to have hit the mob hard enough to confuse them. Then he looks in the other direction, and his blood runs cold. Cars are pulling over, skidding to the sides of the road. A fleet of motorbikes weaves through the traffic, closing inexorably on the courthouse.

"Holmes!" he shouts. "The Crazy Diamonds didn't buy the decoy! They're incoming!"

The detective takes a quick look at the motorcycles, already alarmingly close. "We'll be in the air before they can intercept us. Oneshot?"

The mechanic waves them back distractedly. "Move back, over against that wall. I'm touchin' down for landin'."

Nagito stares at the man, puzzled. There's no sign of any sort of aircraft coming in. Could it be -

His jaw drops as a door opens in the air, seemingly out of nowhere. A fold of material swings downward in front of the door to form a ramp, plain metalwork gleaming in the light. "We'd better hurry," Oneshot says uneasily. "That's Knave and Diamondback in the front. I don't like the look of that weapon Knave's carrying." He doesn't elaborate.

Nagito shrugs, following Holmes, Hope, and Monitor on board. The inside of the aircraft is narrow, arrow-shaped and shining with futuristic chrome. Four leather seats seem to have been hastily crammed into the aircraft's center, welded to the floor, with a fifth, slightly larger chair sitting in front of a dial-festooned panel at its nose. Oneshot brushes past them on his way to the front, hastily strapping a series of buckles across his chest and lap before flicking several switches. "I'd strap in if I were you," he calls. "Launching in thirty seconds."

Hope has already buckled Monitor in with practiced ease, checking the state of his own belts before letting out another pulse of soothing emotion. "Sorry," he whispers to the criminal as he slumps forward, eyes flickering briefly before sliding shut. Hope unlatches a complicated-looking mechanism from his belt; fastens it around Monitor's jaw and ears, effectively gagging him. Absently, Nagito wonders why the gag was off in the first place, but the thought is soon pushed from his mind as he concentrates on fastening his own belts. Holmes is seated beside him, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Everyone in?" Oneshot's hands fly across the dashboard. "Launchin' in three...two...one..."

Other than a slight thrum, he doesn't hear anything as the vessel begins to rise, spinning slowly in the air. With a flick of his fingers, Oneshot adjusts the display so that the screen in front of him shows a composite of the aircraft's front-facing cameras. He frowns as a small screen opens in the top left, blurry at first, but resolving rapidly. "Hey, that's weird-"

An explosion rocks the ship, sending it listing to the right. The belts bite into Nagito's chest; he winces as his neck jolts sharply. From the front of the plane, Oneshot cries out in pain, as though something precious has been ripped from him. His fingers still fly frantically over the controls, however. Nagito hopes he's not too badly injured.

To his left, Monitor's head snaps upward. His red eyes fill with rage as he registers the gag clamping his lips shut, a wordless snarl building behind the block. Eyes wide, Hope immediately stretches his hands out, trying another burst of emotion, but Monitor angrily shakes it off, straining against his bonds, still screaming in suppressed rage.

"It's the blowback effect!" Hope shouts, trying to make himself heard above the din of the ship's alarms. "I can't hold him!"

Holmes latches onto one of Monitor's flailing arms, leaning her bodyweight on him. Across from her, Hope abandons his power, joining her in an attempt at physical restraint. "Oneshot! What's happening?"

"I've - we've - lost stealth," Oneshot gasps, as if the admission physically pains him. "We're losing altitude, losing speed. The right engine's damaged." A note of incredulity enters his voice. "That was a freakin' _missile!_ That goddamned maniac launched a _missile_ at us!"

The surveillance window enlarges, focusing in on a large-built man dressed entirely in white, black hair slicked into an Elvis-like formation, surrounded by a fleet of motorcyclists. He lowers the enormous tubular launcher in his hands as if it weighs nothing more than a feather, giving an approving nod to the thug wearing heat-vision goggles on his left. _Knave. Daiya Owada._ The image is blurry and streaked; impossibly, Knave hadn't even slowed his motorcycle while making the shot, the kickback absorbed as though it were nothing. Beside him, a second figure in all white, brown hair sharpened to a drill-like point, roars with triumph, exhorting those around him to greater speeds. His brother, Mondo Owada, gang-leader in training. _Diamondback._

"Diamondback's enhancing their speed and reflexes," Holmes explains, eyes narrowed. "They're going much faster than they should be. Which wouldn't be a problem if we were flying at normal speed, but-"

"I'm trying to compensate," Oneshot says frantically. "I can do it, but it's going to take a couple of minutes." On the monitor, Diamondback and Knave have pulled ahead to the front of their pack, two points of white hailing an unstoppable tide of black.

"That's a minute we don't have," Holmes muses. "What happened with that decoy?"

Oneshot shakes his head bitterly. "They sped right past it. They must have noticed the lack of heat signatures. I sent it ahead along our planned route, but at the speeds we're going-"

"Never mind that," Holmes says. "Is it ahead of the Crazy Diamonds right now?"

Shock fills Oneshot's voice. "W-well...yeah, but Knave's got a kinetic dispersion power, doesn't he? It won't hurt him."

"Maybe not." She dodges a kick from Monitor, tightens her grip on his arm. "But Diamondback isn't immune. Let's make him choose between his brother and us."

The mechanic hesitates a moment, then hisses as Knave balances the launcher in one arm, reaching out for a fresh reload with the other. "Okay. I hope this works."

"I hope so too," Holmes says, but it's so quiet that Nagito can barely hear it.

On the surveillance screen, Diamondback's lips peel back from his teeth in a savage grin. Knave shakes his head, perhaps in indulgence, as his brother pulls ahead. The video still blurs from time to time, but it doesn't take perfect resolution to tell what Diamondback is shouting. _Monitor! Traitor! We're coming for you!_

"Thirty seconds to impact - no, less! They've seen it!"

Knave's seen it. His eyes widen. Diamondback is focused on the ship above, full of blind rage; he's still laughing, screaming, trusting in his brother's missile to bring them down. Knave screams something, throwing the launcher down as he puts on a burst of speed. Behind him, the Crazy Diamonds scatter.

"Hey," Hope says, eyes wide. "Hey. Stop it - it's going to hit-"

Knave stretches across the gap, reaching futilely for his brother. Diamondback turns, slowing slightly. His eyes widen as he sees Knave's panic, feels his brother's hand grab his sleeve.

"SHUT IT DOWN!" Hope bellows. Oneshot swears, reaches out-

It's too late. The decoy car crashes into Knave and Diamondback at bone-pulping speed; crumples on one side into a wreck of twisted metal as the car spins around.

"I've got it," Oneshot says numbly. Nagito is pushed back slightly against his seat as the aircraft begins to accelerate. "They've stopped pursuit. We're on our way."

On the monitor, a figure staggers from the wreck, hair a flattened mess, but otherwise unharmed. He hears a soft hiss from beside him.

"Knave's power wasn't limited to just himself," Holmes breathes. "It was limited to one person - he chose his brother -"

Diamondback looks around, eyes wild. Howling, he falls to his knees beside the totalled car, digs at scraps of metal with his bare hands as if he can undo what's happened. The tortured screams begin anew as he unveils his brother's hand in the wreckage, raw enough that Nagito imagines he can actually hear them through the distance.

The surveillance bot breaks away, Diamondback's figure rapidly receding as it flies to join them. They rescue Monitor against a backdrop of his disbelieving sobs, against the devastation of Hope's expression, who looks as if they've broken his heart, too.

"They'll retaliate now," Holmes whispers, her voice cold and thin. "This will be a disaster for Towa City. I'll have to dedicate a team to reinforce it." She turns to Nagito, whose mind is still racing. Wondering what sort of luck Knave's death was for Towa City, for Monitor, for him. "Causality," she says, cutting neatly through his thoughts. "I'd like you to be one of that team's members."

She's offering him, barely twenty, an official position on a hero team. A chance to sweep entirely past the standard grueling years of solo operation that still lie before him, with a recommendation from one of the highest-ranked superheroes in all of Japan.

_So it's good luck, then._

"Yes," he says, without hesitation, ignoring the disappointment in Hope's eyes. "Yes."

Less than a week later, Nagito Komaeda joins the Ultimates. One year later, he leads them.

**June 19, 2017**

The Ultimates suspect something is wrong.

He keeps making mistakes. He's not consistent from day to day; he's not really _there._ While Sonia and Gundham retreat into their grief and Ibuki and Kazuichi distract themselves, Nekomaru watches him with concern, noticing every misstep, every lost detail.

"Nagito," he'd said earlier in the day, voice deep and serious. "Are you all right?"

"No," he'd said in reply, and it was the truth.

Nekomaru shakes his head. "I can't understand you, Nagito. Yesterday you nearly fell apart when we found a note Chiaki wrote on a brief. Today, the psychologists want to go over her death again and you don't even bat an eye. What's happening to you?"

How is he supposed to explain? How can he tell Nekomaru that sometimes, it's like he went to bed yesterday with her scent on his pillow, like she'll walk through the briefing room door at any moment, brushing sleep from her eyes and blaming Super Mario for being late; that sometimes, it's like those events are far away, like it was a year ago, when she wanted more but he wanted nothing, free from the leeching dread of the cancer that has already begun to claw greedily at his bloodstream? Sometimes, it's like she died yesterday, because for him she _has_. She's slipping through his fingers like a forgotten dream, and it's all he can do not to scream.

He can't tell him that he's lost in time, because then they'll know he's crazy. They'll take everything from him, carve away the life he's built with such care, leave him with nothing but dust and blood and the nightmare of knowing there's something he's forgotten, not knowing that 'something' is _everything._

So he begins writing notes to himself every night. So he'll know what not to forget.

Briefing notes. Short summaries of the supervillains they're tracking, stapled to the front of dossiers on his desk. Things he has to take care of tomorrow, next week, next month.

The first note is the most important of all, printed in block letters right on the front of the pile, where it's the first thing he'll see when he wakes up.

Nine simple words.

_Chiaki is dead._

_She loved me._

_I miss her._

**September 19th, 2017**

The third time Nagito Komaeda met Kyoko Kirigiri, she congratulated him on his new appointment as leader; he congratulated her on her engagement to Makoto Naegi, better known as Hope, the favorite topic of every single gossip magazine in Towa City. She gave him a summary of their progress with Monitor.

It wasn't good.

Now, he's waiting on the landing strip near their base, eyes shaded as he watches the sky, seeing the dot that represents Monitor's helicopter growing closer and closer with each passing second.

"This is bullshit," Kazuichi says beside him, voice flat.

"Maybe he's gotten better," Ibuki says uncertainly. "Ibuki thinks we should give him a second chance."

"The rest of Towa City won't be so forgiving," Nagito says, and that seems to terminate the conversation.

The man that descends from the helicopter doesn't look anything like the one he remembers. His black hair is cropped short against his skull, standing up in short, stiff spikes. The pure white military dress uniform he wears is uncomfortably reminiscent of the Owada brothers' pale attire, and his armband is striped in his former gang colors, black, red, and white. Tall letters stand out against its background. _Remember._ His crimson eyes still blaze with hidden fire. It's the one thing he still has that matches Nagito's memory of him.

Monitor's posture is stiff. He hesitates for a moment, undecided, before snapping into a crisp salute. "Causality. Oneshot. Siren."

Ibuki gives him an uncertain wave, while Kazuichi crosses his arms, not saying anything.

"You'd better come inside," Nagito says. "Hurry."

"Thanks," Monitor says. He notices Ibuki's suppressed flinch as he starts to speak, and the corners of his mouth turn downward unhappily. Without a word, he pulls out the handle on his suitcase and starts moving towards the door. Ibuki follows him.

Nagito lingers a few moments longer, watching the helicopter lift off once more. He frowns, turning his head sharply. A flash of white hair, a hint of red - and then something slips into the shadows under the roof, and is gone.

"Hey, did you see something?" Kazuichi shakes the watch on his wrist, eyeing the display dubiously. "Perimeter alarms triggered for a second. Do you think it was the helicopter?"

He watches the shadows for a few seconds more, but they lie still and silent. "No," he says grimly. Kazuichi waits for a response, eyebrows rising.

He heads for the door, already beginning to formulate a new crisis response. "It's trouble."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a long-overdue second chapter! From now on, I'll be providing very brief summaries of powersets for a few characters per chapter. If you'd prefer puzzling it out as the story goes on, feel free to skip the notes below!
> 
> Notes on powered individuals introduced in this chapter:
> 
>  **Oneshot (Kazuichi Soda):** An engineer who can build almost any mechanism that he can think of, ranging from surveillance drones to weapons. However, he cannot duplicate items he crafts too closely, unless they represent a major innovation on an existing work. Furthermore, if anything that he creates is destroyed or damaged beyond reasonable scope of its use, he permanently loses the ability to make items of that type.
> 
>  **Witch Queen (Sonia Nevermind):** A specialist in occult rituals and battlefield control. Her spells either enhance or deplete those affected by them - for example, she could choose to construct a ritual to enhance the agility of a flock of birds for four hours, or to set up a ritual that would sap the strength of those entering the ritual circle. However, she can only focus on one ritual at a time, and rituals take several hours to set up. The type of ritual also affects her abilities - depletion rituals cannot be maintained while their subjects are outside the ritual circle, but do not require her to maintain concentration, while enhancement rituals can be maintained at a distance, but require the Witch Queen's constant attention.
> 
>  **Overlord (Gundham Tanaka):** Can exert mind control over animals. The total mass of these animals cannot exceed 90 kg combined. This control is unable to enhance the basic intelligence of these animals, and requires constant concentration to maintain. Only one type of animal can be controlled at a time. If control is maintained for longer than five minutes at a time, controlled animals will enter a frenzied state, indiscriminately attacking every living creature around them. The aftermath of this is, understandably, a giant pain to deal with, and is one of the reasons why Kazuichi still flinches whenever he sees a pigeon. Overlord also seems to have gained the loyalty of four inexplicably intelligent hamsters, who are present with him at all times, although whether or not his powers have anything to do with this remains uncertain.
> 
>  **Siren (Ibuki Mioda):** Can scream. Very, very loudly. Siren can modulate her volume enough to tone down her screams from lethal blasts to frequencies causing only mild nausea. She can also use infrasonic frequencies to cause unease and object vibration. Long-term exposure to Siren's screams will result in permanent damage to the eardrums, and can affect anyone in range - including her teammates and bystanders. Before she discovered her powers, Ibuki was an aspiring singer. Unfortunately, her power introduces damaging harmonics into her voice when she sings, and she has been forced to abandon any hope of ever pursuing music as a hobby - except in private, thoroughly soundproofed rooms - again.
> 
>  **Hope (Makoto Naegi):** Can manipulate emotions, inducing one emotion at a time in those he chooses to affect. The effect is strongest when targeted to one person, but can be spread over many people in a diluted form. The emotional effect has a higher chance of 'bleeding' and affecting other people in the vicinity depending on the strength with which Hope attempts to induce the emotion with. Every emotion that he induces results in Hope himself experiencing an opposing emotion. For example, he would feel panic if attempting to influence others to feel calm, or joy if attempting to induce sadness. Finally, once the induced emotion wears off, a blowback effect results in the affected individuals experiencing the opposite emotion to the one Hope has induced, in proportional strength to that used when Hope employed his power.
> 
> No prizes for guessing what Holmes' power is. As for her drawback, Nagito hasn't seemed to figure it out...yet.


End file.
